When He Just Won't Wake Up
by Kiye
Summary: When Draco won't wake up one day in the future Malfoy/Potter household, what can Harry do? *slash*


When He Just Won't Wake Up. "DRACO MALFOY!" hissed Harry, shaking the blonde man lying on his bed. "You idiot."  
  
No movement.  
  
"WAKE UP!" yelled Harry, thoroughly exasperated. He had been trying to wake Draco for at least half an hour now.  
  
Still no movement.  
  
"BREAKFAST!" snapped Harry, watching Ron raise an eyebrow from across the room.  
  
"You could insult him," piped up Ron helpfully.  
  
"You dirty.ugly.slime ball you!" said Harry, crossing his fingers. Now that was simply an outright lie. His Draco was gorgeous.  
  
A faint murmur of discontent rose from the still figure.  
  
"Your hair is greasy and you're growing horribly fat!" suggested Ron.  
  
"Yes!" agreed Harry. "Let's see.Teen Witch Weekly just called you 'Bottom of the Ladies' "To Shag" list'."  
  
Ron made a choking sound and Harry glared at him. He pointed to the article in Teen Witch Weekly, which actually read:  
  
"Draco Malfoy, one of the most stunning, drop-dead sexy men there are. Boyish, evil, and overall simply irresistible. #1 atop the Ladies 'To Shag' list for 1,000 times this year."  
  
A small huff of indignation could be heard.  
  
"Come ON!" wheedled Harry, using his best 'child-like' voice. "Preety please?"  
  
"Or else I'll lock you up with Hermione for two days so you can listen to her recital of Hogwarts, A History," threatened Ron.  
  
There was a faint, scared gurgle.  
  
"RONALD WEASLEY!"  
  
Both men (minus Draco) jumped. Hermione was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, scowling at them all.  
  
"Can I take that back?" said Ron weakly.  
  
"No," snapped Hermione. "Breakfast is almost over. What's taking you all so long?"  
  
"We're reciting Hogwars, A History," muttered Ron.  
  
"You should know better!" said Hermione. "I do not recite Hogwarts, A History, anymore."  
  
"What's the new vogue?" asked Harry, momentarily forgetting Draco.  
  
"Keeping Your Husband Tame," said Hermione sniffily. "By Judiah Verdes."  
  
"It was To Take Over the Household-When Your Husband Is a Lazy Git last week," said Ron.  
  
"I decided you're not a lazy git," said Hermione breezily. Ron looked up, astonished.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"You're a indolent and insufferable git."  
  
Harry stifled a snigger.  
  
"Hey!" protested Ron. "That title belongs purely to Malfoy."  
  
"Draco," said Harry automatically.  
  
A small snarl was issued from the bed.  
  
Hermione looked at Draco mischievously. Holding a finger to her lips, she mentioned them to follow her into the bathroom.  
  
Once inside, she began filling up a silver basin with cold water. Harry began smiling.  
  
"With some of my Elizabeth Aloha face masque," said Hermione proudly, dumping a bottle of sickly-looking greenish glue with the water.  
  
Ron grinned widely.  
  
Mixing the liquid thoroughly, Harry carried the basin over to the bed.  
  
Draco shrank slightly away from him, as if knowing what was coming.  
  
SPLASH.  
  
"ARRRRRRGGG!" yelled Draco, jumping from the bed sheets. "HARRY POTTER!"  
  
"It's Harry Potter-Malfoy," said Harry, looking hurt.  
  
"THAT WAS MY HAIR!" screamed Draco girlishly, running a hand through his greenish-blonde hair.  
  
Ron and Hermione were laughing silently. Harry patted him on the shoulder.  
  
"Now we can eat breakfast," he said, as if his lover's hair was not a nasty glob of green.  
  
"I CANNOT STAND ANY MORE OF THIS!" continued a steaming Draco. "I WANT A DIVORCE!"  
  
Harry frowned. "Do you really mean that?"  
  
Draco stopped ranting, his eyes softening as he turned to Harry. His greenish bangs were plastered all over his face.  
  
"Of course not," Draco said simply, sealing his mouth over Harry's. There was a slight, muffled noise of content before both men fell onto the bed in a tight embrace.  
  
Ron cowered and covered his eyes. Hermione, however, looked very cheerful.  
  
"Nothing like an Elizabeth Aloha masque to do the trick," she said happily, before skipping downstairs.  
  
Unknown to all of them, the leftovers of the masque grinned cheekily at the lovers.  
  
*A/N: *Dodges rotten tomatoes* I know, horrible, not even funeee, but hey!  
I'm not a funnee person. I'm the angst kind of girl.*wails* but leave a  
review anyway.preety please? 


End file.
